Push(91)

It’s no surprise that Ricky would be thrilled with his new windfall, but why would he tell David about Michael’s will? What would he gain by revealing that information?
“Why the hell would he tell you all this?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I guess he knew that I would tell you. Maybe he thought that you would be pissed about not getting anything from Michael. Maybe it was some sort of revenge.”
“I could care less about Michael’s money,” I say. “I wouldn’t want it anyway.”
“Yeah, but Ricky doesn’t know that. As he was telling me about Michael’s will, I was thinking about how convenient it all was for him. Then it dawned on me—it wasn’t convenient. It was planned. From the moment I pointed out that he and Evan would inherit nothing if Michael was found guilty, Ricky’s wheels were turning. Somehow he convinced Evan that getting rid of Michael was the only solution, and Evan did it.”
As David is talking, things grow clearer inside my head. I can see precisely how Ricky planted that seed because I know the suggestive power he has always had over Evan. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen how much Evan looks up to Ricky and how readily he is influenced by him. I can hear Ricky convincing Evan that it would mean the end of his financial troubles and an opportunity to start a new life. I can see Ricky bringing up my mother’s missing jewelry and using it as fuel against Michael. I can see Ricky manipulating Evan, and Evan falling for it headfirst and not even recognizing that he’s being played. Ricky knew that Evan was stupid enough to get caught; hell, maybe somehow he even made sure Evan got caught. At this point, I wouldn’t put it past him. But most importantly, Evan would never rat out Ricky, and Ricky knows it. I feel sick.
“And, to top it all off,” he adds, “Ricky knew that he could still get money from me, simply by threatening to take my offer to the police. He’s clever, Emma.”
“So, did you tell him that you figured it out?” I ask. “What did he do?”
“I took a risk, and I called him on it. I told him straight up that I knew he convinced Evan to kill Michael. The look on his face was priceless, and I knew I was right. He was f*cking stunned. I handed him the rest of his money and then I told him we were facing a stalemate.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
David shrugs and raises his brow. “I paid him what he wanted, and I made it very clear that if he tells anyone about my offer, or if he contacts me or you ever again, I will tell the police about his involvement in Michael’s death. And when Evan finds out that Ricky set him up, he’ll sing like a motherf*cking bird. It’s plain and simple—as long as we both keep our mouths shut, neither one of us will end up in prison.” He takes a breath and drops his hands down to his sides. “And that’s why I know he isn’t coming back. That’s why you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
Because I don’t know what else to do, I pick up my glass of wine and finish it. Then I walk into the kitchen to pour myself another. I set the glass down and put my hands on the counter, leaning my head forward until it’s resting against a cabinet door. Holy hell.
“Is that all, David?” I ask. My voice is quiet and rife with exhaustion and distress. “Is there anything else I need to know about my f*cked-up family?”
“No,” he says. “That’s it.” I hear him push away from the table. His feet brush against the carpet as he walks toward the kitchen, and then he is behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding my back tight against his chest. I pull my head away from the cabinet door and drop it back down, repeatedly banging it against the wood in three firm, successive smacks. “Do you want me to leave?” he says quietly.
“No.”
David doesn’t move a muscle, and we stay together in the kitchen for a long time. I think about how happy I was to have someone who wants to protect me. How happy David made me when he told me how covetous he feels. How many years I have lived with no one to look out for me aside from myself. And here I am now, in the arms of someone who wants to protect me so much that he is willing to risk everything, and I don’t know what the f*ck to do. I don’t know how to act. I don’t know how to say thank you and let life roll on.
“Did you really leave the poker game just to make sure we were all right?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says.
“Brad is going to be pissed at you for leaving, you know.”
“No, he isn’t,” he sighs. “He’s the one that told me to come.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
David lets go of my waist and leans back against the door frame. I turn around and rest my rear against the edge of the counter so that we are face-to-face.
“We’re all right,” I say with a small smile. “I get it now, David. Thank you for wanting to protect me. Thank you for caring about me enough to do what you did. But I still think you’re an idiot.”
“I know you do,” he says, completely unfazed. “I guess I’m just a little crazy.”
“Yeah, I kinda noticed.”
“It’s your fault, you know. You turned me crazy,” he says, the playful lilt returning to his voice. “I was normal before I met you.” And then he is smiling again. I can see the same happiness I saw at the tattoo parlor. The same happiness I heard in his laughter when we were overlooking the city and I asked him about his last name. The same happiness I sensed when I agreed to be his girlfriend. It thrills me to know that I can make David happy, to know that he is crazy about me. Because I’m a whole bunch of crazy right back.